


Thirst

by Havokftw



Series: I used to be indecisive, now I'm not sure. [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alpha Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Coupzi, Jicheol, Knotting, M/M, Omega Jihoon, first heat, woocoup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havokftw/pseuds/Havokftw
Summary: Jihoon freezes.Then it all makes sense: the temperature changes, the hunger pains, the possessive behaviour, every little irritant magnified one hundred-fold and itched against nerves that feel open and raw.He’s experiencing his first heat.





	Thirst

Soonyoung has abandoned him.

On his _birthday_ no less.

Okay, so his birthday might have been last week—but Jihoon wasn’t exactly feeling 100% last week so he’s deciding to celebrate it now, but that’s besides the point.

The point is—Soonyoung is a shitty friend.

This is not even an ' _I have a deadline tomorrow’_ situation, which Jihoon is forced to give Soonyoung grudging, special dispensation to abandon him for. No, he's been abandoned so Soonyoung can go on a date.

A _date._

He doesn’t know who Seokmin is, and he’s probably a great guy, but Jihoon hopes the movie they’re going to watch sucks and their popcorn is soggy.

He decides to go out anyway, because he refuses to sit around his dorm watching his room-mate Jun make out with his boyfriend.

Seungcheol, at least, is not a shitty friend and has agreed to go out with him.

Which is nice.

Jihoon doesn’t know a lot of Alpha’s personally, but Seungcheol is a constant in his circle of friends.

He’s pretty loveable as Alpha’s go; approachable and friendly.

He’s also perpetually disorganised and a huge doofus all round, but it’s nice that he always makes time for Jihoon.

* * *

 

 

A million scents batter Jihoon's nose as he shoves open the door to the club; he can just make out the weaker undertones of the Beta male stamping hands at the door, but the overpowering musk of the numerous Alphas lurking about, make him tense and uncomfortable and set alarm bells off in his head.

He knows he should go home, he knows this is a stupid, impulsive move and the bartender probably will think his ID is fake if he tries to buy a drink. 

Something – _idiocy_ —drives him forward, though, into the thick of the large crowd. He finds himself breathing through his mouth as he makes his way to the bar, where he does manage to order a drink.

He’s about to take a sip when somebody jostles his elbow.

It’s a female Omega, around his age.

"Excuse me, what are you? Blind?" Jihoon says, not without annoyance, because that's just who he is today.

The Omega gives him a careful once over and holds up a pacifying hand, backing away slowly. Jihoon's fist clenches on the glass he’s holding, and he tries not to snarl.

He’s been like this all week. Defensive, testy.

It's too fucking hot in here, it's too--

The scent hits him first, like a fucking frieght train, bowling over every other scents in the room. It’s comforting, familiar and then there's a hand leaning on the bar next to his, and a nicely muscled forearm attached to it, and a body at his back. Not touching Jihoon, but he might as well be.

He turns his head to find Seungcheol standing behind him, a furious scowl on his face. “There you are—guess it’s just you and me tonight. You want a drink?” Jihoon asks.

Seungcheol's speaking, but the sudden fog in Jihoon's head only lets him register a low, gruff, purring voice, giving him two seconds to wonder if he's been drugged, somehow, before his mouth catches up. “What was that? Say that again.”

Jihoon twists to face him, but there is a certain amount of swaying going on, and Jihoon does briefly end up kind of hugging Seungcheol, but it's mostly an accident.

Seungcheol quirks a brow. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

"Uh," he says dumbly, “I’m getting a drink—celebrating my birthday? What does it look like? Hello to you too by the way.” Jihoon snarks, lifting the glass to his lips. He can't seem to register the smell of it, so he takes it in one swallow, and all he feels is a burn.

Fuck—his senses are hijacked.

Seungcheol takes the glass from him and sets it down on the bar top. He gives Jihoon a slow once-over, intense gaze like a searing brand on Jihoon’s skin even through his multiple layers. “Jihoon—are you out of your mind?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. _“I know—I know_. Getting drunk before the weekend isn’t a great idea. But I’ve had a rough week, okay. _I need this_. And I _need_ to get out of the dorm for a bit. Jun and his boyfriend are all over each other and it smells so bad right now. It’s like neither of them have showered in weeks.” Jihoon laughs.

He takes in a deep breath, subtly sniffing the air around Seungcheol.

And wow—fuck _,_  what is that  _smell?_

Is that _Seungcheol_?

It’s like a spicy, unique musk. A little like warm smoke and pine needles and the wild smell of the air just before a raging, thundering storm. It’s intoxicating and heady and Jihoon could roll around in it all fucking day.

“You smell good though. What cologne is that? It’s— _nice_. Musky. Definitely you.” Jihoon says, leaning in to take a whiff. He's never been so  _aware_  of Seungcheol’s scent before, Seungcheol always smells great—but this is different, he has to be, it's like an assault on Jihoon's senses.

“Wow—you should bottle that up and sell it. Give some to Jun. You could make millions.” He laughs—no, _actually_ —he _giggles_.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Seungcheol pulls back, eyebrow raised in amusement. “Jihoon—You shouldn’t be out here.”

Jihoon blinks; Seungcheol agreed to meet him and now he has a problem with it? Why come out at all if he’s going to be like this. Jihoon sighs, he doesn't have the capacity for mind games right now, and he doesn't know what Seungcheol is looking for. “Why not?”

Seungcheol frowns, one big, warm hand coming up to cup Jihoon's chin, tip it up so he can nose at the pulse point in Jihoon's neck.

Jihoon has to hold his breath because he thinks he might actually moan, out loud, right here in the middle of the club.

Seungcheol takes a slow breath, and it occurs to Jihoon that he's being scented, but instead of shying away, he has to grip the bar to stop himself from leaning into Seungcheol’s warmth.

"I can smell it on you," Seungcheol murmurs, still holding Jihoon's chin, searching his eyes. "You can't smell that? You can't  _feel_  it?"

“Feel what?”

Seungcheol presses close, close enough to lean in to Jihoon's ear and take a lungful of his scent again. “You’re going into heat.”

Jihoon freezes.

Then it all makes sense: the temperature changes, the hunger pains, the possessive behaviour, every little irritant magnified one hundred-fold and itched against nerves that feel open and raw.

He’s experiencing his first heat.

A million scenarios run through his head in a split second, but he's lost, he didn't prepare for this. He didn't prepare for being stupid enough to go out and surround himself with unfamiliar Alphas the night his first heat struck. If he even imagined the possibility, he couldn't possibly anticipate how powerful an Alpha’s scent would be. How much he'd _want_ it.

The frown is gone from Seungcheol’s face, replaced with a mix of disbelief and concern.

"You had no idea?"

Jihoon shakes his head mutely. He regulates his breathing in an attempt to calm himself, but it’s too late for that.

“Oh shit—Oh shit.” Jihoon begins to panic, hardly befitting of a new-age, independent, assertive Omega like him. Glancing around the cramped club—he is suddenly aware of the several heated gazes locked on him. “Oh—fuck.”

“Calm down. Relax. It’s gonna be fine.” Seungcheol assures.

“Easy for you to say, you’re an Alpha. You’re not a fucking Omega on his first heat surrounded by strangers.” Jihoon tells him, swallowing hard against the tightness of his throat.

Seungcheol grabs his arm, and there is fire in his eyes, and there is fire in Jihoon’s skin where Seungcheol touches him. Here it is, Jihoon thinks, and braces himself.

"No one will lay a hand on you.” Seungcheol says instead, brushing a piece of hair off Jihoon's forehead and leaving tingles in the wake of his fingers. “I’m gonna make sure you get somewhere safe and you can deal with this however you've planned for it.”  He finishes, tugging Jihoon towards the exit.

“Okay,” Jihoon says—or tries to say. The hand clenched around his arm may as well be clenched around his throat for all that he can get the words out.

* * *

 

It’s fucking typical that once they exit the club, every single person and their mother seem to be on the street. Seungcheol keeps him close, an arm always present on his shoulder.

It's late November, but Jihoon actually pulls off his hoodie as Seungcheol leads him down the pavement towards the subway. His skin is burning already, as though his body was waiting for him to acknowledge what was happening before it hit him full force.

Riding the subway during his heat, is, without a doubt, the most terrifying experience of Jihoon’s life thus far. 

The station is crowded. They pass on the first train cart because it is packed so full that the door will barely close, but when the next comes by shortly after, it’s just as packed.

“We need to get you inside Jihoonie—it’s not going to get easier waiting around.” Seungcheol tells him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the train.

Seungcheol somehow manages to manoeuvre them into a corner of the carriage, so that Jihoon’s back is pressed against the metal wall instead of against a complete stranger.

“Where are we going Cheol?” Jihoon manages, flushing when he realizes his fingers are on Seungcheol’s arms, but he supposes that's okay to do with a friendly Alpha who's standing so close and chaperoning you home.

“My place is closest. I’ll take you home and then get Soonyoung to come pick you up.” Seungcheol explains.

As the train moves along the line, Jihoon stands looking at the floor as he sways from side to side at every curve of the track. He can feel the unwelcome stare of other passengers on his face, and most people, he thinks, with a lurch of his stomach, can sense when they’re being watched.

When he looks up, there are four—maybe five people staring straight at him.

He lets out a shaky breath and shuffles closer to Seungcheol. “They’re staring at me.”

“They’re Alphas’s. They can smell you’re going into heat. It’s— _affecting_ them.” Seungcheol explains.

Jihoon understands for the first time why some Omega’s might not want to live in the city or walk alone at night, even though independence is all Jihoon has wanted all his life. There is a second, the smallest instant, where Jihoon can see himself in his mind, getting surrounded by unmated Alphas—being pinned to the ground, and he clutches at Seungcheol.

His vision swims and his knees threaten to buckle as Seungcheol curls a hand around his nape and squeezes it reassuringly. “Shh—it’s okay. I’m here.”

“Why isn’t it affecting you?” Jihoon murmurs.

“Who says it’s isn’t.” Seungcheol says. He licks his lips and Jihoon follows the motion, hungry all of a sudden and wishing Seungcheol would -- what? Lift him up, pin him against the wall, hold him there and--

“I’m not going to do anything to hurt you Jihoon. I’m not like that, but—yeah—I’m hard as a fucking rock right now.” Seungcheol breathes, and Jihoon knows he doesn't have to look down to confirm that. When he pulls back, it’s there in Seungcheol’s eyes.

He can detect the change in Seungcheol’s scent when he goes from aroused to predatory, and instead of sending Jihoon screaming (the way it's supposed to, the way he always thought this would happen, away from eyes and noses;  _controlled_ ), it makes his skin burn hotter. He watches Seungcheol swallow, reign himself in, and almost whimpers when Seungcheol steps back.

He's never going to look at Seungcheol in the same way again, that much is clear. 

Another alpha, elbowing his way through the crowd to get closer to the door stops and sniffs the air near them. The Alpha turns to look at him, in a way that Jihoon doesn't like at all. There's too much in that look. It's a look with purpose and design. He's been looked at too many times by people who have plans for him.

“What the fuck are you looking at.” Seungcheol grunts, uncharacteristically rude and aggressive as he stares the other alpha down. Jihoon sees his grimace up close and personal because Seungcheol is three inches away from him, his arms like a cage on either side of Jihoon.

The Alpha quietly sizes Seungcheol up. He must have at least basic survival instincts, because he decides against any action and steps off the train at the next platform.   

Seungcheol says something to Jihoon then, drawing his attention but his protective scent is so overwhelming Jihoon hardly sees him anymore. All that registers is the breadth of him, the strong shoulders, the muscled chest, the way he’s so much larger than Jihoon in every respect.

“Cheol.” Jihoon murmurs.

“Shhh—It’s okay. Nearly there.” Seungcheol assures, crowding him into the corner again.

When the train stops again, the crowd presses closer and Seungcheol retains the space he’s claimed for them both. Even those three inches seem like a relative mile to Jihoon as he looks around and sees what everyone else has, and Jihoon is astoundingly grateful with the part of his attention not occupied by desire.

When they finally reach their stop, Seungcheol literally elbows people out of the way just to get Jihoon off the train. After they climb to street level, Jihoon takes a moment to gasp and appreciate the fresh city air, before somebody yanks his arm and he’s tugged backwards.

He only has a second to register the unfamiliar face of an alpha, a scent’s that’s all  _wrong,_ before Seungcheol is driving his fist through the guys face. Jihoon can hear the crack of cartilage under his knuckles.

The blow knocks the man to the ground with a loud yelp and Seungcheol steps over the sprawled Alpha and drags Jihoon closer, growling deep and feral in warning.

The rest of the trip to Seungcheol’s place is completed in a light jog. Seungcheol knocks into a Beta, causing them to scatter their books and Jihoon steps on somebody’s foot and isn’t even sorry about it because he is absolutely done with this shit and it’s not even 10:30 yet.

 

* * *

 

“Thank fuck Mingyu’s away home for the weekend.” Seungcheol says, unlocking the door and ushering Jihoon in.

Jihoon stumbles inside and takes a deep breath.

The whole apartment smells like Seungcheol, strong and masculine and everything Jihoon's body is craving. Those Alpha pheromones of his are even worse in the four walls of his apartment. It’s all Jihoon can do  _not_  to climb him like a tree.

“Cheollie—I’m so warm.” Jihoon whines pitifully.

“I know—I know.” Seungcheol soothes, his voice more gentle than it has any right to be.

It’s late November and Seungcheol is wearing a heavy letterman jacket, but when he settles Jihoon down on the couch, he turns the air conditioning on.

Jihoon moans in surprised pleasure when the blast of cold air hits his face, squirming as Seungcheol directs the vent in the direction of the couch.

Seungcheol kneels before him. "Let me help." He whispers, untying Jihoon’s converse and taking Jihoon's shoes off for him. Jihoon watches him numbly.

"Open a few buttons on your shirt," Seungcheol tells him, glancing up as Jihoon looks on in confusion. "The cold air will feel good on your skin."

Jihoon doesn't know where his conception of shame has gone, but he obeys without thinking, sighing when the air hits his damp chest. He's sweating and he doesn't even know when it started, but the realization has him wanting to claw out of his clothes, spread his legs and beg.

Seungcheol steps into the kitchen and comes out with two bottles of water. He uncaps one and sets it on the coffee table, then leans down and holds the other against Jihoon’s brow.

“What—what are you doing?” Jihoon stammers.

"It’ll help," Seungcheol tells him, smiling as he smooths the cold bottle over the heat of Jihoon’s brow. 

“Cheollie, I’m warm and sticky.” He whines pathetically.

“Here—hold this against your neck.” Seungcheol crouches down next to him, voice low and soothing. He hands Jihoon the bottle and steps away from the couch.

Jihoon holds the bottle against the beating pulse point on his neck, watches as Seungcheol sheds his jacket, retreats to the other end of the room and pulls out his cell.

Seungcheol smiles at him fondly as he brings the phone up to his ear, and there it is, again, a spike of heat in his stomach from the way that Seungcheol looks at him.

“Soonyoung’s not picking up!” Seungcheol grunts, dialling Soonyoung's number again.

 _He’s probably still in the cinema_ —Jihoon thinks

Jihoon thinks of his dorm, of the solid lock on his bedroom door, the vibrator and lube and ample supply of batteries in his bedside table. And he thinks of his empty bed, cold sheets, nothing but his own and Jun’s scent permeating the small room, and he can't imagine enjoying that. He can’t imagine why he ever thought that would be enough to deal with what's flaring up in his belly right now.

“Oh—yeah, I forgot. He’s gone home for the weekend.” He lies.

“Oh—okay.” Seungcheol stares blankly ahead, then swallows with difficulty. “Ok—here’s the plan.” He says, and he's dragging his jacket off the arm of the chair, and pulling it on, in rough, jerky movements. “I’m gonna go out and get you some supplies and—a few toys. You can take my room and lock the door behind you. Stay in there till the heat is out of your system. Sound good?”

Except this sends a spike of pure fear through Jihoon.

“No—don’t.” Jihoon whimpers. He doesn't know what he wants, but he needs Seungcheol _here_. He shakes his head, starts reaching out to Seungcheol with trembling hands, before he loses his courage and just freezes like a deer in headlights. He looks down; it seems less cowardly than closing his eyes outright. “Please. Just—don’t leave me.”

Seungcheol just stands there, doesn’t move a muscle. For a second, Jihoon thinks Seungcheol's just going to go, that he's just going to leave Jihoon sitting there in the mess of his own words and want.

But he doesn't, he moves back over to the other side of the room and tugs his jacket off again.

"Is--" Jihoon stutters, flushing hotter, "Is it going to get worse if I don’t— _yanno_?"

The look Seungcheol gives him may well be sympathy, which would be answer enough. “It’s a hunger Jihoon. You need to— _feed_ it. I remember our Sex Ed teacher describing it like a fire—you can only douse with flames. It’s hard to explain till you feel it, but, c’mon you’ve had sex ed classes in school right?”

“Yeah—but they never teach you this.” Jihoon dismisses with a lazy wave of his hand.

He tucks his knees up against his chest and watches Seungcheol pace frantically around the room, around _him_ —always a safe distance away.

“Why are you standing all the way over there?” Jihoon pipes up, voice dry and cracked.

Seungcheol stops and looks up at him, eyes so intense that Jihoon feels like he's pinned in place with his gaze. “Because—you smell really nice Jihoonie. The longer I’m around you—the harder it is to control myself. I’m only human.”

Jihoon is silent for a moment, letting the weight of those words sink in.

“Maybe you should stop trying to control yourself.” He murmurs.

Seungcheol blinks at him, stunned. “Do you even hear yourself.” He says, gentle and without judgement.

Jihoon’s brain is a fog, still catching up with his mouth. When he registers what he’s just said, he dies of mortification on the inside. “I—uhm—shut up.” He grumbles.

Seungcheol laughs and shakes his head. “It’s okay—it’s the heat. Your hormones and pheromones and— _fuckmemones_ are overloading. You’re expected to say lots of stupid things. I won’t hold any of this against you later.”

Jihoon breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Seungcheol is going to let him pretend he didn’t just asked to get fucked. Seungcheol is awesome.

Although, Jihoon doesn’t know if the heat can be blamed for everything he says. He might not be thinking rationally _now_ , but he’s always thought Seungcheol was kinda hot. In that big—stupid—sweaty—sexy kinda way.

“Thanks. That actually might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Seungcheol chuckles.

Jihoon blinks, and then realizes he’s spoken aloud. “Dammit.” He groans, flinging his face into the couch cushions. “You’re not allowed to hold that against me either!” He snaps.

“Okay.” Seungcheol nods.

“Even if I meant it.” He adds.

Seungcheol smirks, a slow stretch of lips that seems to slide indecently across his face “Okay.” He says. The amount of arrogance he manages with one raised eyebrow is tremendous.

“But I didn’t even mean it!” Jihoon retracts petulantly.  

The palms of Seungcheol’s hands look soft and pacifying. “Okay.”

“Stop being so nice and stop agreeing with everything I say!” Jihoon whines.

Seungcheol stuffs his hands in his pockets and tries to hide a smile.

“Have you decided what you want to do?” Seungcheol asks after a few minutes of silence. “It’s not too late for me to go out and pick up some things for you.”

Jihoon shakes his head.

Another wave of heat flushes up his neck like a lick of fire and settles in his ears. The blood coursing through his veins is  _boiling_  him from within, and the thick scent of Seungcheol’s pheromones blanketing him makes it hard to  _breathe_.

Jihoon opens his mouth to pant gently, trying to release heat. His eyes rake Seungcheol’s frame and he notices the thick outline of Seungcheol’s cock, pressing against his fly.

It makes his mouth dry and his stomach flip and he looks quickly away. He needs that in him. _Now._  

“Seungcheol.” Jihoon murmurs, because he likes saying the name, likes the way it rolls off his tongue.

Seungcheol looks at him, questioning.

“You’re a really good friend Cheollie. A good friend.” Jihoon says lazily, hand drifting down across his chest, over his stomach. Seungcheol swallows thickly, eyes following the path of Jihoon’s hand.

“Do you know what would make you a great friend?” Jihoon whispers, just before palming himself. His hips cant up automatically, chasing his own touch, he spreads his legs as wide as they’ll go and thrusts blindly in search of friction, frustrated little mewls escaping from his lips. It’s fucking  _embarrassing,_  and he bites his lip, trying to stifle the ridiculous sounds he’s making.

Seungcheol groans, shuts his eyes and tips his head back. “Oh **_god_** Jihoon. You’re killing me.”

“Then maybe you should do something about it. I’m kinda giving you a golden ticket, access all areas here. Take it—take it.” he whines, hips shift restlessly as the heat burns through him.

“We’re friends.” Seungcheol groans, almost like he regrets that they are. Like it’s holding him back somehow.

“So?” Jihoon demands, halting his actions, uneasy from the way Seungcheol fidgets, from the way he alternates between sharp desire and then outright guilt.

“So, I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to compromise our friendship.” Seungcheol says sensibly.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Who says it will?”

“You.” Seungcheol snaps, frustrated. “You and your awkwardness with me Jihoon.”  

Jihoon opens his mouth to call  _bullshit_ , but Seungcheol soldiers on. “I swear, every time we get close, you end up pushing me away.”

“No I don’t.” Jihoon scoffs.

“Yeah you do. Remember at Hannie’s party. We kissed and then you ignored me for two weeks.” Seungcheol mumbles, the slope of his shoulders the gentlest Jihoon has ever seen.

Jihoon makes an effort to maintain a neutral expression. “I—you remembered that?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Hard not to—you shoved your tongue down my throat.”

Jihoon winces at the memory. He shouldn’t have let that kiss happen, he thinks, shouldn’t have dropped his defences around Seungcheol like that.  But when he thinks, and rethinks, how it should have gone, it always ends in the same place.

“I have a low alcohol tolerance.” Jihoon says, explains, tries. He feels like he’s speaking a foreign language, stumbling over phrases to find the right answer. “And I didn’t know you were sober enough to remember that.”  

He tries to angle his face away from Seungcheol’s eyes, but his skin prickles, hot. It’s the heavy weight of regard, unmistakable.

“I’m not complaining about the kiss Jihoonie—just the cold shoulder after. Every time I think we’re getting closer, you build up all these walls and shut me out. I hate it.” He murmurs.

Jihoon curls his fingers into fists and tucks them between his thighs. His face is burning. He doesn’t know how to begin to apologize.

“I don’t have many alpha friends. I don’t know how to act around Alpha’s sometimes. I’m afraid if I do something it will be some silent request to get fucked six ways to Sunday.”

Seungcheol laughs at that, quick and surprised, “Going out on the first night of your heat, alone, pretty much guarantees that.”

Jihoon looks away, feeling abruptly resigned. “I didn’t know what was happening. I just thought I was getting sick or something. Running a slight temperature all week.” Jihoon unclasps his hands from where he’s been wringing them in his lap, forcing himself to meet Seungcheol’s eyes. “I’m sorry Cheol. I lied about Soonyoung going home for the weekend. He’s just out on a date. If you call him—he’s probably out of the cinema by now. He can come get me and—I’ll be out of your way.” he says, and his conviction sounds as weak as his voice.

Seungcheol looks shell-shocked for a second, dark eyes glinting down at Jihoon. Then he draws closer to the couch, seats himself on the far end, away from Jihoon but within touching distance. “Why’d you lie?”

“I dunno. Guess I wanted to stay with you.” Jihoon mumbles, with a self-deprecating shrug.

Seungcheol glances over at him, smiling softly –amused, maybe. He reaches over and puts his hand on Jihoon's thigh, and Jihoon is painfully, blindingly lit up from the inside out from the touch.  

Jihoon puts his hand over Seungcheol’s, squeezing it tighter, trying to imagine those thick fingers inside him, and there is a trickle of slick forming between his legs. 

A shudder goes through Seungcheol at the same time. "Oh fuck—Jihoon." He growls. He leans over, bends his face to Jihoon's neck, inhaling him. "You smell so good right now, like you wouldn’t believe.” His voice is thick, and he fits his mouth under Jihoon’s jawline.

“But even before this—before your heat. All I could smell was you." Seungcheol whispers in his ear like a secret, and Jihoon grips him tightly because he’s never been good at letting go, face buried in Seungcheol’s neck.

“Fuck,” Jihoon moans, pushing closer, canting his hips up a bit. The dampness between his thighs grows wetter. “Please—Cheol, fuck me.”

Seungcheol exhales. His eyes are dark with want, nails digging into his palm as he tries to exert a measure of self-control.  “I’m about to lose my cool here Jihoon. They should hand out some kinda Nobel prize for the restraint I’m showing. But just so you know what’s going to happen—we’re going to go into my room—and I’m going to fuck you. _Over and over again_. I’m going to knot you, breed you till you’re heavy with my cum. I’m gonna do it a lot. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, yes—I want that.” Jihoon says, miles beyond caring how breathy and hoarse his voice sounds.

* * *

 

Jihoon’s whole body feels like it’s shaking as he rises to his feet, the force of his heat takes him by surprise. Or maybe Seungcheol is responsible, maybe his scent, or the promise of his hands on Jihoon's body, has his heat blossoming.

The heat is inexplicably making him shiver, and he grabs at the wall for balance even as he’s walking toward the door. His legs wobble like jello as he walks, all achy joints and rubbery limbs that give way half way down the corridor.

Thankfully, Seungcheol is there to catch him.

All of Jihoon’s air and sense is knocked out of him by the heat of Seungcheol at his back and the grip of his hands on Jihoon’s waist, trapping Jihoon’s body between his powerful arms. The gust of breath on the back of his neck makes him melt toward the warmth and a soft moan escapes him against his will.

Seungcheol lays him on the bed and is on him in a minute, nuzzling under his ear. Jihoon turns his head to give him access and arches up to rub against him, full body contact. Seungcheol’s weight on top of him is too good.

He doesn't realize that Seungcheol is stripping him out of his clothes until he feels cool air on his legs, and Seungcheol’s hands smoothing down his damp skin.

Jihoon arches and has to bite his lip; his entire body has turned into an erogenous zone.

He’s never been completely naked in front of  _anyone_ , and it should be terrifying, but instead he wants to stretch and display himself for Seungcheol’s approval.

So he does, and he thinks he can feel something change – Seungcheol’s scent, maybe, or just his demeanour. Predatory.

When Seungcheol steps back to strip off, Jihoon mewls—fucking  _mewls_  like some helpless little animal, and he can’t even find the brainpower to resent himself for it.

Seungcheol’s scent gets a hundred times stronger when he pulls his shirt off, and Jihoon takes lungfulls of it, simultaneously calming and exhilarating. He wishes he could see when Seungcheol opens his jeans, shoving them down his hips, but he can't bring himself to push himself up long enough to look.

When Seungcheol climbs back over him, a fresh bout of fear strikes Jihoon. "Wait. What about—the knot? What if I—uhm," Jihoon stumbles, suddenly feeling like the school sex ed program has failed him monumentally, because there is no sexy way to ask about this, not with his brain in such a fog.

Seungcheol, to Jihoon's relief, catches on. "It’s okay, I'm on suppressants," he confirms, "And I’m clean, but I've got condoms if you--"

“No!” Jihoon interjects quickly. He bites his lip, his instincts singing, his body telling him exactly what it wants. "I want you to fill me up."

Seungcheol grins at him, predatory and delighted. He takes Jihoon's chin, tilting it until they're eye to eye. "I could smell you before you even walked into the club." he says, low-voiced. "I knew you were in heat instantly. I couldn’t believe you were out by yourself. I thought you were looking for someone to go home with.”

Jihoon shakes his head. "I didn't know. I didn't know what it felt like...I’ve been feeling weird around people all week, but I felt safe with you." He says, distractedly rutting against Seungcheol’s thigh even though the friction's hard enough to hurt him.

He’s distracted enough that it takes him a moment to notice Seungcheol has frozen over him. Jihoon looks up, worried he's fucked things completely somehow, but Seungcheol’s eyes are shining, warm.

He’s smiling down at him, radiantly, urgently happy.

Jihoon throws his arms and his legs around Seungcheol, aches to kiss him but doesn't quite dare. He shimmies against Seungcheol instead, striving to get friction where he needs it most. Seungcheol thrusts against him, his cock hard against Jihoon's stomach. Seungcheol’s thigh drives against Jihoon's cock, rough contact enough to make him cry out.

“Cheol—please.”

Seungcheol chuckles, deep and quiet, moves so his nose is nearly touching Jihoon’s. “Restless little thing. You should hear the noises you’re making Jihoonie. You should see yourself. Any Alpha would kill to mate you.”

His breath is warm and moist on Jihoon’s lips and that’s it, Jihoon can’t stand it anymore, he has to kiss Seungcheol or he’ll die. He surges up, moving his lips soft against Seungcheol’s, trembling to hold himself up.

Seungcheol splays one arm along Jihoon’s back, helping him up effortlessly, moving his weight to lean on his other hand. Even Seungcheol’s kiss feels like a claim, Jihoon's body humming its approval, opening for it. Seungcheol’s tongue glides across his lips and Jihoon moans, darts his own tongue out to invite Seungcheol inside. Seungcheol comes crashing down on him like a wave, pushing Jihoon down into the bed and fucking his tongue deep into Jihoon’s mouth.

There’s a shitload of noise and Jihoon’s making most of it, even muffled as he is. He ought to be embarrassed but he can’t spare the mental space.

When Seungcheol rises, laughing weakly, Jihoon’s belly is splattered with his own come. He barely even noticed the orgasm, too overwhelmed by sensory input.

“Fuck Jihoonie. I hardly touched you baby.” Seungcheol whispers, trailing his fingers down Jihoon's stomach, slicking his fingers in his release.

He slides a hand around Jihoon’s back, over his ass, and when he rubs at Jihoon’s hole, Jihoon’s already so slick he takes the first two fingers effortlessly.

“Jihoonie,” Seungcheol says softly, sounding honestly awed by the way Jihoon’s body twists up and releases for him so eagerly.

“You’re so  _wet_ , fuck.” Seungcheol’s voice is more of a growl than anything and Jihoon can’t even bother with humiliation because it feels so fucking  _perfect_ , Seungcheol’s thick fingers spreading him open, slipping inside him. His body locks up greedily to pull him in deeper.

Jihoon is hot, he's  _too hot_ , the fingers not much more than a tease. It feels unnecessary, really, because even the third presses inside easily, and soon Jihoon hears himself begging. Little whimpered pleas, his legs spread wide in invitation.

"Okay, alright, relax," Seungcheol soothes, sounding nearly as shaken as Jihoon feels. His fingers leave and Jihoon whines, clutches, every instinct in his body telling him he needs something inside him  _now._  

“Please—Please Cheollie—Please!”

Seungcheol tries to hush him, tries to bring him back down to earth, then apparently gives up.

"It won't hurt," Seungcheol is saying, pulling Jihoon's legs up over his shoulders, "The heat will take care of that. Your body knows what to do." He whispers.

Then he grips Jihoon’s hip and sinks inside in one long slick stroke, and Jihoon could  _cry_  it feels so incredible. His vision swims and Seungcheol’s cheek is gritting against his collarbone, mouth hot and reverent on his throat.

Seungcheol is big. Jihoon knows enough to know that, to know that his body is being stretched to its limits, but Seungcheol wasn't lying, either -- it doesn't hurt. Jihoon cranes his head to the side, searching with his mouth until he finds one of Seungcheol’s fingers and takes it in, starving for it.

"Fuck, good Omega," Seungcheol growls, still pushing in and in and in, pressing another finger between Jihoon's lips as he does it.

The tension in Jihoon's body reaches a crest, without warning, and before he knows what's happening, he feels wetness splash onto his belly and chest, completely blindsided by a second orgasm.

"Ah, ah," he pants around Seungcheol's fingers, whimpers quickly turning into sobs as his body tenses and sings with overstimulation.

"Fuck baby," Seungcheol says, pulling his fingers free of Jihoon's mouth so he can lean down, folding him in half for a kiss, "I've got so much to show you."

Seungcheol isn't gentle, but Jihoon wouldn't want him to be. He keeps Jihoon pinned, gasping for air as he fucks him, and it's hard and fast and brutal, but Jihoon doesn't feel like he's burning anymore. He feels warm, wanted and taken, and he's never been so happy to trust his instincts. Seungcheol is filling some essential space inside him; if this is what heat can be like, Jihoon doesn't know what he was ever scared of.

Jihoon comes again, and he doesn't even understand how, but his body doesn't feel like it belongs to him anymore. Seungcheol is wringing him out, driving into him, feeding him his come on the tips of his fingers, and Jihoon can't do  _anything_  but take it, lick and suck and clench down on Seungcheol’s cock, and cry -- he's actually crying, can feel the tears mingling with the sweat at his temples.

His legs drop down to the mattress, and Seungcheol pulls them around his waist as he starts to slow. It gives Jihoon a second to take deep breaths of sorely needed oxygen, but then Seungcheol is lifting his hips off the bed, grabbing a pillow and tucking it underneath.

“Need to knot you Jihoonie. Gonna plug you this time.” Seungcheol grins and bites Jihoon’s jaw lightly. "I’m going to get bigger—but keep breathing and push down around me."

Jihoon gasps and clamps down against him and then he feels it – Seungcheol’s cock flaring at the base, swelling inside him and stretching him wide, so fucking wide that it actually hurts now. Jihoon gasps and Seungcheol pets him, smooths his hair back, kisses his eyelids, his cheeks.

"You're okay, it's okay," but the soothing is unnecessary, because Jihoon knows he's okay. He feels  _incredible_. "You can take it, you're so good, you can take it."

Just when Jihoon feels like he might scream from the pain and pleasure twisting up inside him, Seungcheol stops talking, dropping down onto his elbows, and lets out a growl that sounds barely human.

The first spurt of Seungcheol’s come inside him feels like a brand, somehow hotter than Jihoon's body. Seungcheol moves in close, plastering his body to Jihoon’s, turning to nose at the sweaty hair at his temple. Jihoon can hear the growl at the back of Seungcheol’s throat as his cock continues to spasm, pumping Jihoon full of his semen.

Jihoon hears himself sobbing, but he's disconnected, out of control. He never could have prepared for his body's response, for how good and perfect and right it feels. He thinks Seungcheol might be speaking, but Jihoon can't hear, can't think, can't feel anything but how stretched and full and wet he is.

Jihoon has no idea how long it goes on. By the time Seungcheol’s breathing starts to calm, Jihoon is just on the right side of uncomfortable from the pressure inside him.

The Omega in him is appeased, curled up and preening at being bred so full. The heat daze has cleared somewhat, but it’s only a matter of time before it returns. He can't imagine what kind of mess this will make of Seungcheol’s sheets when his knot goes down, but Seungcheol must be used to this kind of thing.

He seems so _knowledgeable_.

 _He must fuck a lot of Omega’s—_ Jihoon thinks _._ And The thought of Seungcheol doing this with _anyone_ else, is outright crushing.

* * *

 

Jihoon calls in a doctor's note for the rest of his classes for the week, and Seungcheol keeps him in his bed the entire weekend.

He loses track of how many ways Seungcheol takes him. He feels so  _full_  with Seungcheol swelling and spilling into him, enough to make his eyes water, yet he moans and pleads for more all the same. 

Jihoon learns that having Seungcheol in his mouth is almost as good as having him in his ass, and that as good as it feels to be knotted and swollen with his cum, sometimes it's better to avoid it, just so he can get fucked again that much sooner.

He also learns that heat burns a lot of energy, and thank god Seungcheol is considerate enough to stop for breaks.

"Do you want pizza? Fried Chicken? Just say what you want and I’ll get it for you." Seungcheol whispers to him on Sunday afternoon, while he's curled up against Jihoon's back, still plugging him full of come. The heat is fading now, just a pleasant hum making him slightly fuzzy-headed, and Jihoon laughs at Seungcheol’s tentative questioning.

* * *

 

He wakes up Monday and remembers  _everything_ , including some of the utterly embarrassing confessions he made during the literal heat of the moment. He wishes heat would erase your memory alongside your inhibitions, just enough to erase the greedy clutch of his fingers at Seungcheol’s skin, the way they acted as though they had a right to be there.

And maybe they _did_. Seungcheol had said things to him too. Some really sweet, heavy, sentimental things.

A lot of their relationship was intensely cryptic to Jihoon, but he now knows that Seungcheol was frightened of damaging it.

It was a measure of how much worth he had attached to their relationship. To them.

“Don’t make this awkward. Please don’t push me away.” Seungcheol’s voice makes him snap to attention.

Jihoon opens his eyes and sees a glass of water in front of him. There are two ibuprofen cradled in the palm of Seungcheol’s hand.

“No—it’s okay Cheol. I think we’re past that.” Jihoon laughs, shifting under the covers.

“Yeah?” Seungcheol says hopefully.

“Yeah.” Jihoon echoes. He’s content, warm and comfortable and he  _feels_ , in the easy give of his muscles, that he could close his eyes and go back to sleep. “Thanks for fucking the heat out of me. Twenty Eight times.” he smiles, accepting the water and taking a sip.

Seungcheol visibly relaxes, the tension draining from his shoulders. “That’s pretty good going for your first heat.” He chuckles, sitting across from Jihoon on his desk chair, leaning forward to stroke Jihoon’s arm.

Jihoon feels giddy, and he keeps trying to shake it off, unsure how much of it is heat and how much is... what? A crush? A  _bond_? That's just a fairy tale, a love story about mating for life and he  _knows_  it's not true, because Seungcheol is no virgin, and he's obviously not mated with his first Omega.

“Do you do this a lot?” Jihoon asks, hating how his voice comes out small and almost  _hurt. “_ Do you help a lot of Omega’s through their heat? You seem to know a lot about it.”

Seungcheol rubs his face. He shakes his head, slowly.  “Uhh—no actually. I just read up about it.”

“You _read_ about fucking Omega’s through their heat?” he asks, quietly. Sitting up to place the glass of water on the bedside table.

Seungcheol sighs, looks away. The slope of his shoulders is weary. Jihoon doesn’t know if it’s an apology or an excuse. “I wanted to be prepared, just in case.”

“In case what?”

“In case you needed me.” Seungcheol says, not even blinking to admit it, and for a moment Jihoon is so off balance that he doesn’t react.

Seungcheol’s confession is enough for Jihoon to gather his courage and ask, “So—would you be available next time? If you’re not too busy that is.” He says, proud of the nonchalant confidence in his voice.

Seungcheol gets up from his chair and sits on the edge of the bed, nodding slowly. "Yeah? You'd like that?"

Jihoon falters. "Yes. I mean, if that would be okay with you."

He can’t imagine going out to pick up random Alpha’s to breed him through this cycle. The mere  _thought_  of another Alpha’s hands on him make him shudder internally.

Seungcheol grins and takes Jihoon's wrists in his hands, thumbs over his pulse points. "Jihoon, if you didn't have to go to class, I wouldn't let you out of my sight between now and your next heat."

Jihoon grins, feels his face flushing, and this time he knows for sure it's not the heat.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) That's right. Just one chapter. I can do that sometimes.  
> 2) I wrote a large chunk of this a while back and then found it and a few other unfinished work again last week. I posted a poll on twitter asking what ppl wanted to see and this one. So I polished it up.  
> 3) I feel like I mentioned scent a lot XD How do you hone the A/B/O vibe in fics?  
> 4) Hope you enjoy and---sorry for those expecting an Alpha Jihoon XD Maybe.....next time ;)  
> 5) Feedback always appreciated.  
> p.s. I always think Cheol would be a soft Alpha. Like---soft with his Omega. He's a soft boy. So I imagine he would show a great deal of restraint, especially when it came to a friend. Especially for Hoonie. :)


End file.
